Sara Teasdale

Spring Torrents

  Will it always be like this until I am dead,
   Every spring must I bear it all again
  With the first red haze of the budding maple boughs,
   And the first sweet-smelling rain?

  Oh I am like a rock in the rising river
   Where the flooded water breaks with a low call—
  Like a rock that knows the cry of the waters
   And cannot answer at all.